A few weighted moments passed before she gathered her courage and looked up at him. He stared down at her with a stunned, questioning gaze. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights—completely spooked.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she took the clothes from his hands. "I’m going to go jump in the shower. I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit."

He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. See you down there after."

He studied her for another few seconds before turning and heading down the staircase, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room.

Penn kicked off her shoes and escaped into the bathroom. Dropping her dress on the floor and ripping off her bra and garters, she climbed under the hot shower spray and let the tears slip down her cheeks. She brushed impatiently at them and took a ragged breath.

Right now, she’d give anything to be able to rip the words out of the air. The last thing she needed was this hanging between them, especially tonight. Now it was going to be so incredibly awkward.

More than anything, she wished that he’d say the words back. But like this beautiful hotel room, she knew that was nothing more than a fantasy.

---

West sat on the couch, absently flicking through the television channels. He'd watched the same baseball highlights four times, but hadn't even seen them.

All he could think about was Penn’s innocent, happy declaration of love.

The moment she’d said the words, something changed. The air between them became charged. She'd stilled in his arms, immediately realizing what she'd said. He'd been so completely stunned he hadn't even been able to fucking react. He’d frozen like a terrified rabbit.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he let out a sigh. She’d looked horrified, and not wanting to make it worse for her, he decided ignoring it was the best decision.

That had obviously been the wrong thing to do. He'd seen the look on her face before she'd turned away—she’d looked vulnerable as hell and completely hurt.

When they first met, he’d told her he'd never been in love, and it had been the truth. He was still getting used to the idea that he was fucking crazy about her…but love?

He couldn’t wrap his head around that. He’d had so many years of one-night stands that his experience with Penn was like being in a foreign country and not speaking the language.

It pissed him off that the first thing he’d thought of while she was standing there, looking up at him, were his father’s words: ‘Don’t tie yourself down, son. Sample it all. You’re young, you’re famous, and you’re rich. Commitment only leads to problems.’

He’d heard that so many times over the years that he knew it off by heart.

What the hell did he know about love? Or relationships? He'd never had more than one semi-serious girlfriend over a decade ago, and his parents sure as hell weren't role models for happy endings.

The last person who had ever even said "I love you," to him was his brother, Drew, the day before he’d passed away.

He took a swig of the beer he'd grabbed from the fridge earlier before giving up and draining the whole damn bottle.

Fally and Nic had been happy for the past few years, and he knew shit had been rough between them when they were getting to know each other. Same with Ryder and Zoe. They gave him hope that he might have a chance at long-term happiness with a woman someday, but it didn’t give him hope when it came to a possible relationship with Penn.

The obstacles between them—the distance, her chaotic life, his life on the road—it all seemed insurmountable. And yeah, his fear.

Except for their bond. The bond they shared—the link of Danny and Drew—didn’t seem like an accident. What were the odds of finding someone like her, who’d been through the same damn thing? And the way he’d found her, on the side of the road? Maybe some things just weren’t accidents.

She’s the one.

He grabbed for his second beer and drowned that thought with it immediately. There were no "ones", there were only choices.

His dad was right, he wasn’t her white knight. Fuck, if he couldn’t figure out how to save himself from all the pain and misery of losing Drew, how the hell could he figure out how to save her? To protect whatever it was they had between them?

The odds were completely stacked against them. If he was a betting man, he’d never take a chance on a long shot like that. Ever.

West glanced up to see her coming down the spiral staircase in the black undies and matching tank top, her damp blonde curls hanging loose around her face.

"Hey, Pixie."

She looked over at him with puffy, red eyes. "Is there another one of those?" She nodded at his beer.

Shit. She'd been crying, and it broke his fucking heart. "Yeah. In the fridge."

He stood and followed her into the kitchenette. She pulled out a beer, opened the top deftly with the bottle opener, and took a long pull.

West leaned back against the island and crossed his arms, watching as she drained the bottle. He took it from her hands and set it on the counter.

"West, just so you know, I was only expressing my gratitude to you up there. That’s all. It wasn't like I was proclaiming my undying love for you or anything. It didn’t mean anything."

He studied her for a long moment as she fiddled with a string on her tank top. "You’re lying, Penn."

She crossed her arms. "Um, no, I'm not."

"Then why have you been crying?"

"I haven't."

He pushed away from the counter. "Will you cut the bullshit, Penn?"

"I'm not talking about this anymore." She tried to push past him, and he blocked her with his body.

She tried again, unsuccessfully.

"We can do this all night, Pixie. You’re not getting past me. I do this for a living, remember?"

"There's nothing to discuss! I don't love you, okay? I don't."

He grasped her around the waist and swung her onto the counter, figuring he had one chance to bridge this gap between them before it grew into a fucking cavern. He moved in close, until his face was inches from hers. Her eyes were wide and watchful, her breathing rapid as she scanned his face.

Suddenly, he was desperate to hear her say the words again. Yeah, he knew it was greedy and selfish, but he wanted it. He wanted a straight up 'I love you' from her lips. Even if he couldn’t say it back.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

He brushed his lips against hers, reveling in their softness. When she took a breath, he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

"Still sure?"

"Don't," she pleaded. "West, please. Please don’t do this to me."

The distraught tone of her voice coupled with the pained look on her face twisted him up in knots.

"Listen to me, Penn. You need to know how much I care about you. Because I do." He pulled back and cupped her face. "You know that, right?"

"None of it even matters." She lowered her head and shook it slowly. "What I feel, what you feel, it doesn’t matter anymore."

"Why not?"

She turned her head to look out of the windows, and he followed her gaze. Dawn would break soon.

"Because it’s tomorrow." She met his gaze again. "It’s over. I have to go back."

"No. Not yet." West picked her up in his arms, carrying her through the kitchen and up the stairs. He slid back the gauzy curtains surrounding the pretty round bed and set her down on the edge. The room was dark, except for the twinkling bead lights laced through the bedframe.

"It’s so pretty." She looked up at the delicate lights and traced her fingers along the silky gauze fabric. "Like a fantasy."

He swallowed as he stared at her in the tiny silk panties and clingy tank top. "Yeah, a total fantasy."

Their eyes met and held for a few heartbeats before he took a step forward and ran his fingers along her cheek.

"Penn." His voice was rough to his own ears. He opened his mouth to try and tell her how much he cared, but everything he wanted to say didn’t seem like enough.

Leaning her back on the bed, he peeled off her clothes, covered her with his body and kissed her. He’d use his lips, his fingers, and his body to show her how much he cared. He might struggle with the words, but he needed her to know.

It was weighing him down—all of the things he’d never get to say to her. Every date he’d never take her on, every secret they’d never share, and every kiss he’d never steal—it was all so heavy on his heart.

This wasn’t just sex. This was goodbye.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he kissed her soft and slow before positioning himself between her thighs. "I need you so much."

She gave him a small, sad smile. "I’m afraid I’ll always need you, West."

"Pixie," he choked back. The emotions were going to kill him tonight. He cupped her face, tracing his fingers along her delicate jawline and down her neck.

He wanted to remember every sound she made as he moved within her, and never wanted to forget how she felt beneath him. Her soft little cries made him ache.

"I lied, West," she whispered. "When we were in the kitchen. I lied to you."

He placed his face against the curve of her neck and squeezed his eyes shut. He wished he could bring himself to say what she needed to hear. But as much as he wanted to give that to her, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—say anything to her he wasn’t one hundred percent sure was the truth. It wouldn’t be fair.

West held her close as her orgasm claimed her, whispering sweet, encouraging words as she shattered around him. He followed soon after, shaking with the force of his own climax.

After a few hours in bed of holding each other and just enjoying being close, the sun peeked over the horizon to start the new day. A day he already hated.

Penn slipped from his embrace and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Where are you going?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him, and the pained, teary expression on her face nearly broke him. His limbs grew heavy and his chest tightened in response.

"I can't lie here with you anymore."

"Penn." He sat up and closed his hand around her upper arm. "Don't."

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't deal with a long, drawn out goodbye. It will kill me, West."

"Goodbye doesn't have to be right now."

"This has to end. If not now, in a few hours, or a few days. But it has to end. Doesn't it?" Her voice broke, and she dipped her head, hiding her face with her hair.

He ran a hand over his jaw, not ready for this morning and all of the misery it was about to inflict. "C’mon, Penn."

She stood and turned to face him. "Just say it, West." Her voice rose. "Say that it has to end."

"Do you think I want to say it?" He threw off the sheet and sat up.

"Just say it."

He swallowed and met her eyes. "Yeah. It has to end."

"Because you don’t do relationships," she countered.

He didn’t respond. Nothing he said would be the right thing—the thing that would make her accept the realization that things were really ending. He wasn’t sure he could accept it himself.

She studied him for a long moment before walking over to the dresser and gathering the clothes he'd brought for her.

"What are you doing?"

She yanked on her tank top and shorts. "I'm leaving."

"Pixie, come on." He could feel the anger radiating off of her as he climbed from the bed. "Will you please talk to me? You're pissed off, I know, but—"

She whirled around to face him. "You don't even want to try! Can’t you admit that whatever we have is worth an effort? That no one else understands you like me? Because that’s how I feel about you."

He couldn't handle the anguished expression on her face. "I'm being realistic, Penn. Your life is in complete chaos with your family right now. It’s not fair for me to expect you to make sacrifices to fit me into your world. I’m on the road all the time with the team. I would never expect you to drop your responsibilities to fly in and see me whenever there was a moment to spare."

She opened her mouth to speak, and he cut her off. "Especially when I can’t promise you anything in return."

It was a cold, cruel statement. But no matter how much he tried to see a future with her—and no matter how much he wanted to believe in happily ever afters, he was like his old man. Cynical, sexual, and unable to see a future with a woman that didn’t end in misery. Fuck, this one hadn’t even started and it was already destructive.

They’d gotten way too attached to one another. It was kinder to end it now. Even if it fucking killed him to hurt her again, in the long run, it was kinder.

She searched his face, the light in her deep blue eyes suddenly dimming, then going out.

"You're right, West. There's nowhere left for this to go." She picked up the rest of her clothes and slid her feet into her sandals.

"Penn, don't leave like this."

"I want you to know I'm grateful for everything you did for me." She gestured at the beautiful suite. "Please, don't think that I'm not. But I can't keep pretending I'm okay. I want this with you—way too much. You know how I feel about you. You know where I stand."

She drew a deep breath and gave her head a tiny shake. "This hurts, because in a way, you put me back together again. You gave me hope and made me realize things will get better someday even though I lost Danny. But I’m leaving here before you break me all over again, West. I won’t let you do that."

He’d already broken her. He could see it in her eyes, and the knowledge nearly dropped him to his knees. He wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself for it.

He reached out to touch her face before quickly pulling back. He had no right anymore. "I'm so sorry, Penn."

"Me, too." She backed away from him before fleeing down the stairs, out of the door—and out of his life, forever.